


tma mini fics

by oakleaf_bearer



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Author has ADHD, Crack, Divorce, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:22:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26992840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakleaf_bearer/pseuds/oakleaf_bearer
Summary: this is a collection of smaller fics that i have nowhere else to postchapter 3: jon/martin - adhd
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 30
Kudos: 185





	1. elias/peter - divorce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> elias asks for a divorce, so peter decides to mess with him

Elias froze, hand hovering over his keyboard. 

"Oh for goodness sake." 

Far away, in the middle of the ocean, Peter grinned, and dropped his wedding ring into the waves. 

** 3 months later **

The buzz of static grew with intensity until it was filling Elias' office. 

"Really, Peter?" 

The static dissipated. Peter was leaning against the wall by the door, grinning. 

"I've missed you too, Elias." 

"How childish can you be?" 

"Before I left, you said you wanted another divorce. I was helping the process along."

"Little stunts like these are exactly why I wanted the divorce to begin with." 

Peter chuckled. He stalked closer to Elias's desk and dropped into the free chair. "You wound me."

"If only." 

Elias glared at him. He reached out with his mind and tried to See what Peter had been doing these past few months. He was met with a wall of fog.

"Stop it. I don't like it when you do that."

"Stop trying to See and I'll stop stopping you." 

Elias wrenched open his desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. He slammed it on the desk in front of Peter. "Sign it." 

Peter blinked at him, suddenly uncertain. "What?"

"Sign the damn papers, Peter."

"You're giving up that easily?" 

Elias held out a pen. "Have I not made myself clear enough yet? Sign the papers and get the hell out of my office."

Wordlessly, Peter took the pen, giving Elias one last long look before scrawling his name at the bottom of the page. 

He stood, pocketing the pen, then marched from the office, slamming the door behind him with a resounding bang, leaving Elias to fume. 

When Elias got home that night, he found a sticky note tacked onto his fridge. 

_ ' Dinner? - PL ' _

Heaving a deep sigh, he pulled out his phone and texted a response. 

_ 'Only if you bring my pen back .' _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why yes i am writing lonelyeyes crack instead of working  
> how could you tell?


	2. jon & georgie - post leitner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> georgie is woken up by someone knocking on her door and is very surprised to see a familiar face

"I swear to god, if you piss my cat off then I will kill you." Georgie stalked out of her room, pulling on her dressing gown as she went. The knocking on the door continued, a stuttering staccato rhythm that filled her flat with noise and probably pissed off her neighbours. Ooh boy, she couldn't wait for the 'just remember to keep it down dear' from Mrs Weston in the morning.

The knocking continued, louder for a moment. 

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first-" Georgie yanked open the door and gaped at the person on the other side.

The last time Georgie had seen Jonathan Sims he had been skinny, exhausted, and unhealthy. 

Now, he was all of that amplified to eleven. He swayed where he stood, leaning heavily on the doorframe, one hand raised, still working through the motion of knocking. He looked up at her, blinking blearily. 

"Oh hi Georgie."

Georgie barely had a second to react before he crumpled, toppling over the threshold into her apartment, legs giving out. He dropped and her instincts cut in. She caught him under his armpits, slowing his descent enough that his knees only bumped the floor instead of crashing down. 

He blinked again, eyes going wide for a moment. 

"Hey," his speech was slurred, but Georgie couldn't smell any alcohol on his breath. "you caught me. That's nice."

He sagged, body going fully limp, face landing on her shoulder. 

Georgie knelt on her apartment floor, her unconscious ex-boyfriend cradled in her arms. The Admiral bumped into her leg, nosing up against Jon. He gave a curious meow.

"Yeah, me too cat. What the fuck, indeed."

Manoeuvring Jon onto the sofa was harder than Georgie had anticipated. He was lanky and awkward, with far too many joints and angles for a man of his height. Still, Georgie managed it. Once he was settled, Georgie pulled off his shoes and patted him down, checking for injuries. Once it was clear there weren't any, she checked him for a fever, holding a hand to his forehead to check his temperature. It seemed fine. Even his heartbeat seemed normal. His breathing was even and steady. Georgie even pried open his eyelids and help a torch in front of them to check they diluted properly. Everything seemed in working order. 

Except the smattering of scars across his arms and face. 

Those definitely weren't supposed to be there. 

Georgie reached out and traced the edge of a few on his neck. A hand reached up and gripped her wrist, not moving it away, but not letting her continue either. She met Jon's eyes.

He was staring at her, earlier confusion gone. He seemed as clear headed and sharp as she had ever known him. His eyes bored into hers. 

"What happened to you, Jon?" She whispered. 

"Don't ask me that. Anything but that."

"Jon-"

"Please, Georgie. Please."

She sighed. "Do I have to be concerned?"

"No. But you're going to be anyway. It's who you are." 

"Good, you still have some common sense."

A small furry shape hopped onto the sofa, curling up on Jon's chest. He looked down at it and smiled. "Hello, Admiral." 

The Admiral nosed against his hand, purring gently until he stroked down his back. 

"I've missed you too, cat."

"Jon, what-"

He shut his eyes. 

"Right. Not that." 

"I'm sorry. Georgie, I'm so sorry." A tear slipped out from behind his eyelid and his grip tightened on her wrist. "Georgie I messed up. I really messed up, I hurt people, they trusted me and I-" 

"Shh, it's okay." Georgie smoothed his hair down with her free hand. "Just go to sleep, we'll talk about this in the morning." 

"But-"

"Jon, you are clearly exhausted. You can stay here or I have a spare room, but you are going to sleep." 

He stared up at her, eyes wide. She brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. 

"Whatever has happened, it'll be okay. We'll work something out."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Jon whispered, the hand encircling her wrist loosening.

"You know me, Jon. I've never done as I was told. Go to sleep."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." He shut his eyes, curling in on himself. Georgie stayed kneeling by the sofa, gently smoothing his hair until his breathing evened out. 

Slowly, careful to not jostle him, Georgie stood. As she turned to go back to her room, a small smudge of something red caught the corner of her eye. She knelt again, and tugged his wrist towards her. 

Along the cuff of his white shirt was a line of blood.

"Oh Jon." She whispered. "What have you done?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm soft for ms. barker, i love her so much


	3. jon/martin - adhd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jon tries to mask his stimming while talking to martin and martin tells him he doesn't have to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw//   
> -past problematic relationships   
> -attempting to mask stimming 
> 
> this was written as me trying to process a previous experience where someone told me to stop stimming while i was excited about something and i felt Super Bad until my best friend told me to carry on

"You know you don't have to do that, right?" 

Jon looked up at Martin sharply. He'd been mid-explanation when he had taken a pause to collect his thoughts and Martin had piped up. 

"Do what?" 

Martin gestured at him. "You were trying not to move your hands. You don't have to stop."

"I-what?" Jon asked, baffled. 

"You do that thing where you start moving your hands and then stop. It bothers you, I can tell."

Jon stared down at the hands in question. He frowned. He'd spent far too much trying to train himself out of the habit, knowing that people found it 'irritating' or 'distracting'. Too many dates had featured his prospective partner grabbing his hands and stopping him from waving them about as he talked. It was part of the reason he had just given up dating. 

"Sorry, I know it's annoying."

Martin shook his head. "Not at all! You're allowed to move as much as you like."

"It's hardly professional."

"But it helps, right?"

Jon blinked. Martin just smiled at him across the table, nodding encouragingly. "I mean, I suppose so?" 

"Well there you go. If it helps you to sort your thoughts, you should do it." 

"But," Jon felt the old rationalisations bubble up inside himself again. "People find it annoying." 

"I don't." 

"You don't?" 

"Not at all." 

Jon just stared at him, looking at his eyes and searching for the hint of insincerity that seemed completely absent from Martin's wide eyed honesty. "So, you don't mind it?" 

Martin shook his head. 

"Oh. Right. Well, ah, thank you." 

"You were saying about that chess set?"

"Yes, ah, well, it was found in Scotland." He felt his hand twitch. He glanced up at Martin, who gestured for him to carry on. "But they were likely made in Norway sometime in the 12th century. It's one of the most complete chess sets we have from the time, it's actually fascinating with how well preserved they are." 

"How so?" Martin asked, taking a sip from his tea.

"They're extremely detailed, you can still see how much work went into each one. And they would've been done by hand so it's even more-" Jon cut off. He'd been moving his hands without realising it, fiddling with them as he talked. He sent a sharp glance at Martin. 

"Go on." 

Jon took a deep breath. "They would've been made by hand, so each one would've taken hours to make. They're carved from ivory, likely walrus tusk."

As he talked, Martin nodded, asking questions where appropriate, letting Jon talk and move as much as he liked. By the end, Jon felt himself smiling back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look up the lewis chess men :)

**Author's Note:**

> i take prompts on my tumblr @oakleaf--bearer or my insta @statement_boo_gins 
> 
> comments and kudos keep me writing, pls leave some!


End file.
